


Paths and Destinations

by sun_fm (traceylane)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, M/M, a bit of political drama, but mostly a romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24454882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traceylane/pseuds/sun_fm
Summary: Sokka and Zuko grow up between the South Pole and the Fire Lord's palace until they're caught in the middle of a global conflict.(A growing-up-together story set in a (very) alternate timeline where a fragile “peace” was maintained after Sozin and Roku both died on Roku's home island.)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 157





	1. An Evening in the Fire Nation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and Zuko meet at a party.

An excerpt from _Culture and Society in the Four Nations_ :

_The tradition of Two Fates has been observed by generations of leaders in all four bending nations, though the practice is most popular among Earth and Fire nation aristocrats. It stems from a legend about two sons born of powerful men engaged in a brutal conflict; in every story, the boys’ violent destinies are blocked when they are spirited away and raised as allies—two fates redirected towards peace or glory._

_The details of this legend vary by region, and its origins are unclear. It may have been told originally as a fable for children, to teach the importance of empathy and connection, or perhaps as a political allegory, to exhibit the power of diplomacy and joined forces._

_Today, male leaders from each nation have fostered a peaceful political climate and a stable economy by formalizing a similar relationship selectively among their sons, sometimes from birth, but more commonly at seven or eight years old._

_From a diplomatic perspective, this arrangement may signify a promise of military support, trade agreements, or other aid. Culturally speaking, however, many believe that the relationship between Two Fates is profound and predetermined, meant to survive death and span lifetimes._

—

—

A Fire Navy vessel arrived at the South Pole in the spring, just as the ice was starting to thin on the edges of the continent. It wasn’t unwelcome, but it was certainly a surprise. Sokka watched from behind a bended slope of ice, eyes just barely peeking over its edge. His father stood by the opening of their home, waiting.

A soldier in a masked helmet walked into the snow when the ship let down its ramp. The guards manning the docks approached him, tense, but the soldier bowed and removed his head covering. He said something Sokka couldn’t hear, but the guards laughed. One even removed his outer coat and threw it over the armored shoulders of their visitor— he was shivering—before he was escorted towards the village, to the house of Chief Hakoda.

Kya greeted him and offered him a seat on their covered floor, elevated and close to the fire. She laughed, too, a very lovely laugh, when he said, “Th-thank you, K-Kya.” 

She called Katara and Sokka to bring tea and fuel for the stove, and after their tasks were finished they stood quietly against the wall, hoping not to be noticed. This close, they noticed the soldier’s hair was graying at the temples. His face was creased and solemn, but with a sip of his tea it broke into a warm, satisfied smile. Sokka could have sworn he looked familiar.

Their father, of course, did notice them. “Kids—why don’t you go outside?”

They wanted to protest, but they did have a guest. So the two of them exited the house and pressed their ears against the wall of the main room, fighting over the best spot to eavesdrop. 

“Your home is lovely, Chief Hakoda,” they heard.

“Thank you, General Iroh.”

“As always I apologize for the teeth chattering—we don’t get cold like this in the Fire Nation, but I imagine it builds character.”

The two of them laughed and exchanged a few more beats of small talk. Then Hakoda said, “So to what do I owe the pleasure, General?”

“I come with a request from my father.” 

Katara and Sokka could hear the shift in their father’s voice. “Fire Lord Azulon? I see. I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you for saying so. You see, my nephew is turning nine years old next month. Prince Zuko.”

“Oh… that’s great to hear. My boy just turned eight.”

“This pertains to him as well. Your son…?”

“Sokka.”

“Ah, I remember. I haven’t seen him since before he could walk. Is he a strong young man now?”

“The strongest,” Hakoda said, “but don’t tell the Fire Lord I said that.” 

They laughed again, but Sokka’s face heated with pride. He whispered to Katara. “Did you hear that? I’m the strongest!”

She just elbowed him. “Sh!”

“Fire Lord Azulon,” Iroh continued, “requests an audience with you, and wishes to invite the rest of your family to attend Zuko’s birthday celebration. The Royal Family will be happy to arrange accommodations and transportation to the capital while you’re in the Fire Nation.”

Katara gasped. “A party! In the Fire Nation!”

She sounded excited, but Hakoda’s voice made Sokka nervous. “... I see. I have to ask, General, is this meant to lead to a more… formal alliance?”

“Yes, I believe those are my father and brother’s intentions.”

“Hm.”

“My apologies. I understand these things are arranged delicately, but of course I wouldn’t want you to feel ambushed by the proposal. I will say this: there isn’t a long history of friendship between our two nations, although the Southern Water Tribe has always shown me kindness, and the tea you serve is always very good. But my father believes that closer ties will be mutually beneficial.”

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on two children.”

“I would agree, but to be perfectly honest, Chief Hakoda… It is my concern and love for my nephew that leads me to believe being one of Two Fates would be good for him, and for your son. Lu Ten is nearly a man now, but I wish I had given him an opportunity like this when he was young… It’s hard for Prince Zuko to find friends or equals, but he has a good heart, and kindness to spare.”

There was a silence. Sokka found his ears were ringing, just a little. And then he heard his father’s voice once more. 

“We would be honored to visit the Fire Nation. Please give the rest of the Royal Family our thanks.”

—

What was all this about a formal alliance and a delicate arrangement? Who was Pukko? What did this have to do with Sokka?

After Hakoda sent Iroh on his way, he reentered his home and was met with these questions in quick succession.

“Sokka. His name is Zuko.”

“That’s what I said!”

“You said BUKO, dummy.”

“Go _away_ , Katara, I’m trying to talk to Dad!”

“Katara, please don’t call your brother names.” Hakoda gently shooed her out of the house, and then sat his son in front of the fire.

“Sokka, do you remember that story about the two boys from the North and South pole?”

Sokka blinked, and sifted through a head full of oral history. “... You mean the one where their dads are fighting so they get sent away to live in the ocean?”

“... Yes, that one.”

“I remember. Oh, no—” Sokka put his head between his hands, “Dad, are you sending me away to live in the ocean? Please say no.”

Hakoda laughed. “No, son. I bring up that story because there’s a custom that— well, a custom that the Southern Water Tribe hasn’t taken part in for quite a long time. And it comes from this story.”

“Well, if the Fire Lord doesn’t want to send us away, then what does he want with me and Zuko?” Speaking about the Fire Lord as if he were a real person scared Sokka, as if Azulon could hear him and see him and judge him from his throne across the sea. Sokka’s mind retreated to an image of “Zuko”, who he had never met, but apparently he was a boy around Sokka’s age. That felt familiar, safe, and real.

“Nothing too difficult, I think. Maybe that you two can become very good friends, so that when you’re older, you can help each other if you’re ever in trouble.”

“... But he lives in the Fire Nation.”

“Yes.”

“And I live at the South Pole.”

“Yes, Sokka.”

Sokka threw his hands up. “But that’s so far! How are we supposed to be friends?”

“Well, I’ll discuss it with his father. But it might mean that you stay with their family for some part of the year, and Prince Zuko will spend time here with us.”

“I have to go over there? What about you?”

“Me? Well, I’ll have to stay here, Sokka, with your sister and mother.”

Sokka’s lip began to tremble, though he looked down at the toes of his boots. Hakoda pulled him into a hug. “Sokka, believe me. The time you spend there will fly by. You might not even want to come back.”

“Yes, I will!” Sokka tightened their embrace. His mouth was a thin line when they pulled apart. “What if… what if I hate him?”

“We’ll be going for a visit, soon. You’ll meet him then. If you don’t like him, then I can always tell the Fire Lord no. It’s all up to you. Either way, it’ll be fine.”

“... What if he hates me?”

Hakoda smiled softly. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, son.” 

And so a few weeks passed, and another Fire Navy ship arrived to take them to the capital.

—

Kya made Sokka’s formalwear herself. It had the thickness and warmth of their lighter clothing, but the sash around his waist was wider, and the collar was higher. The fur-lined cape he’d been given was the nicest thing he’d ever owned—shiny and soft and white as snow—but at that moment, among a sea of red-robed guests, it felt hot and heavy and itchy.

Sokka was currently in the largest room he had ever been in. Everything was crimson and black and gold—the polished obsidian floors, the gilded pillars, the high ceiling. He didn’t know what he was eating; when he expected sweetness, it was spicy and salty, and when he expected salty, it was spicy and sweet. He had also expected this celebration to feel more… celebratory. But the guests were mostly adults, and the children that were there were dining quietly and either very obviously ignoring him or very obviously staring at him. 

“Sokka.” Katara was sitting between him and his mother. She took his hand in hers under the table. “Why do you look so scared?”

“I’m not scared,” Sokka whispered, though he allowed his hand to be held. “All these Fire Nation kids are just weirding me out. They’re just eating so slow and their backs are so straight and they keep _looking_ at me and not saying anything.”

“Well, maybe you should stop staring at _them_.”

“I’m not—”

A brass horn blew a single note that echoed through the dining room. All of the guests stood suddenly, and Sokka followed their lead, though a few beats late. The next sound was of the heavy double doors at the east end of the room being pulled open. The guest of honor had arrived.

His skin was pale, like he’d spent his life under the shade. His hair was ink black, tied in a knot at the top of his head and adorned with a polished gold hair decoration shaped like a small flame. But the strangest were his eyes—Sokka would begin to see that color everywhere. But this time, the first time, all he could think of were the eyes of a wolf. 

“Prince Zuko!”

His name bounced off of the walls, and everyone in the room bowed low from the waist. Prince Zuko bowed, too. “Thank you all very much for attending. I hope you have a wonderful time.”

“Wow,” Katara said, hand to her mouth. “He sounds… very mature.” And then she looked at her brother worriedly.

In another circumstance, Sokka would have told her that he was mature, too. But the image he had conjured of Zuko—a boy about his age, his new friend, just like him—had been ruined. He didn’t sound like a kid at all. Sokka sank into his chair. Great. What if Zuko was as boring and stuffy as the rest of this party?

There were two seats at the north head of the table. One was for Zuko, on Sokka’s left hand side. Sokka could see the gazes of the other children at the table following the prince as he sat down, and it occurred to him that the cold stares they’d been giving Sokka all evening could be attributed to the seating arrangements, rather than to his outfit. It was probably both. 

The other seat was for Prince Ozai, who had disappeared to another room on the other side of the palace to meet with Hakoda and the Fire Lord, leaving behind an empty chair. A woman took the seat across from Sokka, on what would be Ozai’s right side. He’d been playing with his food ever since they had retaken their seats, but he gathered the courage to peer up at her without raising his head. Her smile was gentle, and he guessed she was Zuko’s mother. 

Next to her was a girl with painted nails and perfectly arranged hair, about Katara’s age. She seemed dead set on catching his eye, and when she finally did, she giggled like something was funny. It did not put Sokka at ease.

“Hello.” 

And then Sokka looked, finally, at the boy sitting next to him.

“I’m Zuko. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Hi,” Sokka said. He smiled sheepishly; Zuko was less intimidating up close. His cheeks were slightly pink, and his eyes were actually round and shiny, like coins. “I’m Sokka. And, um, you too.”

“Thank you for coming to my party.”

“You’re welcome.”

Katara gave him a kick under the table. “I mean,” Sokka amended, “thank you for inviting me. And happy birthday!”

Zuko smiled like he didn’t do it often. “Thank you.”

Several members of the palace staff appeared as if conjured to their end of the table. Sokka watched as Zuko lifted his arms so they could place a cloth on his lap, how he nodded and shook his head when they offered him food, and the way he picked up his chopsticks to begin eating the moment his plate and cup had been filled. The staff had vanished as quickly as they had come. It was as if it had been choreographed.

“Wow,” Sokka said. “Um, that was nice of them.”

Zuko stared at him, and then down at his plate. “Oh. Yes, I guess it was.”

There’s a pause between them, though Sokka had plenty of questions lined up, like who all the guests were and why no one was dancing or playing or why all the food was served so hot, but he felt like if he asked any of those Katara would kick him again. So he asked, “So do you know how to firebend?”

Zuko’s eyes lit up. “I do!” And then he looked a little embarrassed. “I mean, sort of. I’m learning. … Do you know how to waterbend?”

“Um… no.”

Sokka’s cheeks burned when Zuko’s face fell. “Oh. That’s okay.”

The two of them looked down at their laps.

“I know how to spearfish, though,” Sokka said, remembering his pride. “And bait a hook, and tie a bunch of different knots, and carve a turtleduck, and, um…” 

He stopped before he could start naming things on his chore list. But Zuko said, “Really? I’ve never done any of that stuff before.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! I mean, it’s not _easy_ , but you can probably learn!”

Zuko smiled like he was getting used to it. Sokka smiled back.

—

“Thank you for meeting with us, Chief Hakoda.”

They were in a sitting room on the east wing of the palace, at a table sculpted from volcanic glass. It would have been improper to see an invited guest in the throne room, much less the chief of a tribe of another bending nation, but Azulon’s chair was the tallest and most ornate of the three. It was still his palace, and he was still the Fire Lord.

“We were happy to receive the invitation, though it was a little unexpected.”

Azulon nodded. “Our nations have not been social in the past. I had hoped communicating through Iroh would have made you less wary… I understand he’s established a rapport with you.”

Hakoda _was_ wary. That’s what kept him sharp. He needed to stay sharp in this place. “Yes… He’s been very good about providing trade and supply escorts when we’ve asked. And he’s always a gracious guest.”

“I see. I hope these small gestures have shown you how a stronger alliance between us may prove valuable to you.”

Hakoda’s fists clenched and unclenched under the table. “Are you referring to why my son was invited?”

Azulon did not move, but his eyes flitted to Ozai, who spoke up. “Yes. Our sons are of appropriate age and position to be matched as Two Fates.”

 _Age and position? Is that all?_ Hakoda thought. 

The Fire Lord spoke again before he could answer, maybe having sensed his unease. “Lu Ten, the son of my firstborn, Crown Prince Iroh, is in line for the title of Fire Lord. However, Prince Zuko will someday have an important place among our council, as he is a member of the Royal Family, if that is your concern.”

Hakoda saw Ozai’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at the words _Crown Prince_ . But it may have been a trick of the light. “No, I… Forgive me, I understand that the Fire Nation has resources to offer the Southern Water Tribe, so I have to ask—” _What’s in it for you?_ — “could it be the palace is experiencing an ice shortage?”

The room was silent. Kya and the kids would have laughed. Hakoda swallowed dryly. “I noticed all of your drinks were served very warm, is all.”

Ozai cleared his throat. “If you were to agree to the arrangement, Chief Hakoda, we would appreciate your support in future negotiations with the other two bending nations.”

 _Ah._ Hakoda understood. It was a big ask, and regardless of how vague they were being he knew he had the advantage. If it were only about him. “Oh, _I_ won’t be agreeing. I’ll have to ask my son.”

The room was silent again. Hakoda blinked; that hadn’t been a joke.

“‘Ask your son’?” Azulon repeated.

“Yes. Of course, becoming one of Two Fates is Sokka’s choice.” The Fire Lord and his second born stared at him, their faces betraying nothing. So he went on, “I thought it would be best to give Sokka some time to decide. If you could possibly wait until tomorrow, I can give you his answer then.” 

And then he turned to Ozai and said something that he knew was an overstep. “Zuko may also need some time, too.”

The two men, the ferocious and the discerning, locked eyes for the first time. “Yes. He may, indeed.”

—

Closer to the end of the night, the room was cleared of the tables and chairs, which along with the wined and dined guests made for a livelier party, and the children were left under little supervision.

Zuko and Sokka had wandered into the garden and were sitting in the grass stacking rocks, pretending they were bending them into place, when they saw Katara being pulled outside by a giggling group of girls.

“Isn’t that your sister?” Zuko asked. Sokka handed him a stone, just slightly smaller than the last. “Yeah. That’s Katara.”

“I wonder what she’s doing with _my_ sister.”

“Probably dumb girly stuff. Don’t worry, she’s good at making friends.”

“Um, I don’t know if she would want to be friends with Azula.”

There was a flash and a bang. Katara screamed, and Sokka stood and ran on instinct, knocking over their stones as he rushed past. Zuko dashed through the grass behind him, eyes wide.

The fire was gone, but a bemused Azula was still standing close to Katara and two other girls, who looked bothered, but not very. 

Sokka grabbed her shoulder. “What happened? What did you do to her?”

Azula ripped away as if she’d been stung. “Did you just _grab_ me?”

She had managed to load the question with so much offense it made him hesitate, but he didn’t relent. “What did you do to my sister?”

“I didn’t do anything. She just told me she was a waterbender, so I thought we both could do a demonstration for Mai and Ty Lee. That’s all. We were just having fun.”

“She’s not having fun, Azula.” Zuko stood in between them and glared at his sister. Sokka held out his hand for Katara and pulled her behind them. She buried her face in his cape.

“These people are our guests. Can’t you be normal for once?”

“I _am_ being normal. You’re the one ignoring all the other guests to hang out with a Water Tribe nobody.”

Sokka opened his mouth, ready to defend himself, but Zuko was already baring his fangs. “He’s not a nobody. He’s Chief Hakoda’s son, and we’re getting matched. So there!”

The two girls behind Azula gasped, but she smiled like she had found what she’d been looking for. “So it’s true? That’s kind of a big responsibility, Zuzu. Would Father really give it to _you_?”

“You’re just mad because he asked me to do something that you could never do.”

That one struck. Azula frowned and put her hands on her hips. “Fine. I’m going inside. You’re not being any fun.” She bent slightly at the waist and looked at Sokka. “Good bye, Water Tribe _somebody_. If my brother is telling the truth I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” And then she turned on her heels and headed back into the main room. 

Her friends—one with a long thin braid, and the other with her hair tied with ribbons—exchanged a look before following her. One of them even turned back to wave as they walked away. 

“Bye, Zuko. Bye, Katara. Bye Zuko’s friend.”

The girl with ribbons tugged her by the hand. “Ty Lee, let’s _go._ ”

“I hope they _do_ get matched. I like his hair. I think he’s cute. Don’t you think so, Mai?”

“No. I don’t _._ ”

And then they were gone. 

“I’m really sorry,” Zuko said, turning back to the two of them. “My mom says Azula has a hard time with first impressions.” He noticed the little golden flame in his hair had gotten crooked in the commotion and straightened it. “Um, are you okay?”

Katara was still holding onto Sokka’s sleeve, but she was calmer, and maybe a little self-conscious about starting the whole thing. “Yes. I’m okay.”

Sokka was distracted thinking about the exchange that had just happened. His father hadn’t made this party seem like a big deal, but Zuko and Azula seemed to think otherwise. Matched, did they say? Also—that gloomy girl didn’t think he was cute, even though he was. It was all very strange.

“...kka? Sokka, are you okay?”

What was clear, though, was that Zuko had met him today, and stepped up for him and for his sister, who he had barely even spoken to. Even now, he looked worried about them. 

“I’m okay. Um, thanks. She’s not always that scary, right?”

“Azula? Not always. Just most of the time.”

They laughed, and then the three of them headed into the grass to rebuild their tower. Regardless of how things would change, maybe it would be fun to stay friends with Prince Zuko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out to be a weird soulmate/arranged marriage hybrid when what i really wanted for was zuko and sokka to be childhood friends but I had to keep poking the timeline to have it make halfway sense, and this happened. A couple things: 1) i don’t mean to establish azula here as an Only Bad, if that’s something you’re seeking out or want to avoid; 2) yes i have a soft spot for hakoda. He’s a good dad!!
> 
> I feel like this was very stage-setting-y, so sorry about that, but I appreciate your comments and thank you for reading so far.


	2. Zuko at the South Pole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko has trouble adjusting to life with the Southern Water Tribe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of simplicity, I’m going to say Sokka and Zuko live in the same hemisphere, and experience the same seasons at the same time. Thank you for reading!

An excerpt from the journal of Kya, matriarch to the Southern Water Tribe:

_The year has passed so quickly. Soon, I’ll have a little prince living in my home. He’ll be here for the season, and then Sokka will be gone the next summer, and I suppose every summer after that. As much of a commotion that news is causing around the village, Hakoda is worried about our son. He won’t say it out loud, but he distrusts the Fire Lord. I think he had hoped Sokka would say ‘no’._

_On the other hand, I trust Sokka’s intuition; he’s an excellent judge of character, and he and Zuko became fast friends. But he’s still too young to know why he’s been dealt this hand. I suppose time will tell if this will harm or help us all in the end._

—

Months after the party and two days before his departure, Azula had strolled into Zuko’s bedroom with a grin on her face.

“Dad’s sending you away,” Azula had sing-songed. “When you leave forever, can I have the knives that cousin Lu Ten gave you?”

“What? No!”

“No to what?”

“No you can’t have the knives, and no, Dad isn’t sending me away. You know where I’m going!”

“Azula, please,” Ursa had said, following her daughter into Zuko’s room. “Your brother is not leaving forever. Just for the winter.”

“Oh, I know, it’s just too bad.”

There had been others there, more ever silent staff taking things from Zuko’s wardrobe and shelves and packing them into open trunks on the floor. 

Azula had picked up a garment from one of the cases—a pair of tapered pants, normal cold weather wear for the Fire Nation—and raised it up for inspection. “You’re going to spend the winter in the South Pole with these clothes? Mother, he won’t last a day.”

“What would _you_ know about the South Pole?”

“Nothing. Same as you.”

And then Ursa had called for her. “Azula, come here.” His sister had frowned, but looked surprised when her mother brought her hands up and undid the small bun at the top of her head. With her long, thin fingers, Ursa had combed through the princess’ hair, arranging strands like flowers in the bouquet before tying it back up, neater than before. To Zuko she had said, “I think what your sister is trying to say is that we’ll miss you very much.”

Looking back on that moment now, as the Fire Navy ship he had arrived on set sail without him, Zuko realized his sister was right. The only thing he knew about this place was that it was cold and wet, and nothing else.

He was sitting on one of his trunks at the docks; one of the guards had run to retrieve someone who knew what to do with him, and the others had taken to staring at him like he was part of a traveling circus. A small group of curious, whispering villagers were hovering, too, though not too close. 

Finally, a familiar voice. “Zuko!” Sokka broke through the crowd and threw his arms around him—“I can’t believe you’re here!” —and for a moment Zuko thought something he rarely thought: that maybe everything would be just fine. 

Sokka was in a heavy anorak that reached past his knees, and the hands that reached up to touch Zuko’s face were covered with thick mittens lightly dusted with snow, like he’d just been playing in it. “Wow, you’re really warm!”

“Thank you?” Zuko said, gently pushing Sokka’s hands down.

“Do you need help? Let me—” Sokka bent down and lifted up one of Zuko’s trunks.

But Zuko held up a hand. “Oh. You don’t have to. Isn’t there someone else around to help with this?’

Sokka blinked, and asked very genuinely, “What do you mean?” 

Ah. “Um, never mind,” Zuko said, and picked up his own luggage for the first time. He had underestimated its weight. “I’ll follow you.”

—

Zuko’s days in the palace usually went like this:

He would be awoken gently by a member of the staff who opened the curtains of his window to let the sunlight in. Someone would come in with warm water so he could wash up, and then they would take the bowl and pitcher away while someone else would fix his hair and another would help him dress. 

There would usually be a lesson or two. Calligraphy or music or military history, sometimes. Firebending always. Azula wasn’t better at him in everything—just the things that counted. 

The rest of his day he was left to his own devices, though he usually spent it training. In general nothing was asked of him, and whatever he needed or wanted was handed to him before he had to ask.

At the South Pole, the chief’s house would be bustling before dawn. When he got up, he would surrender to his hair and tie it up in a high ponytail, which was growing longer and more unruly by the day. His waking hours were long and full; his hands became covered in blisters, rubbed into his skin by rope and oars and spear handles. 

(“Don’t worry,” Sokka said. They were propped up against one of the white walls of Sokka’s house, cross-legged on the same blankets they slept under. He was passing a roll of bandages under and over Zuko’s hands, weaving it between his knuckles like he’d done it a million times. “After they heal, they don’t come back.” Sokka tore the fabric and reached out for Zuko’s other hand.

“I’m so _bad_ at this,” Zuko said, frustrated.

“Bad at what?”

“At everything.”

“Just because you don’t know how to do something the first time, or, um, the second or third or fourth or fifth or sixth—”

“Sokka.”

“Just because you’re not good at something right away doesn’t mean that you won’t be good at it ever. You just need practice.” Sokka tied off the bandage. “There, I did it! Is that better?”

Zuko opened his palms towards the ceiling and flexed his carefully wrapped fingers. “Yes. Thank you.”)

He had never seen snow before coming, but it had gotten old quickly. But while he could bear the cold, the worst was the darkness—the hours of sunlight were short, and sometimes the long nights would make him feel weary and slow, like he was living his life while treading water.

(“Why is it so dark here all the time?” He asked Sokka one night. They were eating queen oyster crabs, clawed sea monsters as big as their heads and covered in spiny red armor. Catching them had been hell, and now Zuko was trying very hard to get his dinner open without cutting his hand open or causing an explosion. He looked downright gloomy.

Sokka shrugged. “That’s just how it is in the winter. But some parts of the year it’s basically sunny all day!” He handed Zuko an open shell. “Here. I’ll trade you.”

They exchanged creatures, and Sokka opened the second oyster crab with ease. There was no way he wasn’t hungry, but before taking a bite, he waited for Zuko to try it. So Zuko brought the shell to his mouth, and bit down on the steamed shellfish. It was delicate and salty. 

“It’s good,” he said.

And when Sokka smiled at him, the room seemed brighter. That brightness would have to suffice.)

But as the weeks passed and the days became longer, Zuko began to breathe easier. The other villagers had stopped staring as he walked past, and started calling out to him as if he were any other boy. They would just say hello, or ask him to play a game, or invite him on a hunt, or tell him he needed to eat more so he could get taller. The funniest part was that Zuko didn’t mind.

What was most freeing about the South Pole, though, was that he was the only firebender in the whole continent. He didn’t need to worry about exhibitions in the throne room where he would be probed, upstaged, and disregarded, and even without his family’s scrutiny he had bettered himself. His blisters had hardened into calluses, and he had begun to wake up long before the rest of the village to stare at the ice floes and practice his bending in the dark, just to remember the feeling. He remembered his father saying something about diamonds and coal, but without any pressure at all, he had become stronger.

And then one night, Zuko had a dream. 

He dreamt he was back in the Fire Nation, standing in the amphitheatre below the palace, where there was a lowered stage with a smooth floor. His parents were sitting in a box, raised high above him, staring down at the dueling ground reserved for Agni Kai.

His feet and chest were bare; his hair was pulled tight at the back of his head. His opponent was nowhere to be seen. Where was his opponent?

“Show yourself!” Zuko called. And they did.

Sokka, in the clothes he had worn to the palace on the day they had first met, emerged from behind the banner on the opposite side of the stage. His eyes were a clouded blue, and they held no recognition. In his hands was a spear made of bone. 

Zuko took a step back. “No,” he heard himself say. “Wait! I can’t!”

“You can,” his father said. But when he looked up at the box where his parents were seated, he found Hakoda and Kya in their place. “You can,” Hakoda repeated, in his own voice. “And you will.”

And Sokka charged.

—

Sokka wasn’t a light sleeper. But as he had come to learn, Zuko was a toss-and-turner. He also talked a lot in his sleep. He never mentioned this, because Zuko got embarrassed about stuff easily, and sometimes the stuff he would say was kind of funny. Sometimes, Sokka even heard his name.

Tonight, though, Zuko was trembling. Sokka almost mistook him for awake, but his eyes were shut tight. “Zuko?” Sokka whispered, shaking him slightly. Zuko turned away from him sharply, and writhed under the blankets. It was starting to get scary. Sokka shook him again, harder. “Zuko, it isn’t funny. Wake up, you’re having a bad—” 

“NO!”

The room filled with flame. Just in time, Sokka lifted his arms to cover his face. The fire funneled towards the ceiling, making the roof drip onto the floor. When it was gone, Sokka cried out, holding his hands close to his chest. _It hurts,_ he thought, _it really hurts!_

There were tears stinging his eyes when he saw Zuko kneeling in front of him, wide awake. He was reaching out, but did not touch. “I’m so sorry,” he said, “I’m sorry.” He might have said something else, but all Sokka could feel in that moment was confusion and pain.

He heard Katara gasp and his mother say his name, but soon there were big, cool hands over his and they picked him up and carried him away. The last thing he saw before leaving his house was Zuko, surrounded by singed and smoking blankets.

—

Kya and Hakoda found the prince at the edge of the village, hugging his knees in front of the hard packed snow of the outer wall. He had run out of the house barefoot in his lightest clothes.

“Zuko? Aren’t you cold?” 

He jumped at Kya’s voice, and before they knew it, he was bent low on his knees, his forehead touching the ground. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault Sokka was burned. If you’d like me to leave, I… I understand. I’m so sorry.”

His voice was level, but his shoulders were shaking, almost violently. From the look on her husband’s face, Kya knew they were thinking the same thing: What had this child faced that he would fear them this way?

“Son—” Hakoda began, but he stopped when Kya put her arm out in front of him.

“I’ll take care of it,” she said quietly. “Why don’t you go sit with Sokka in the healers’ tent?”

A few minutes later, she and Zuko were back in their home. He had settled down, but had gone silent. She left to give him a little time to warm back up, and returned with a basket filled with clothes.

“Zuko,” she said, “Would you like to help me with this?”

Soon the two of them were on the floor, sorting and folding laundry. Zuko still hadn’t said anything, so Kya said, “Thank you for your help. If I had asked Sokka to do this, he would have run away and hid.” She fluffed the hood of a little coat—Katara’s—and set it aside. Zuko looked at her and nodded, but still said nothing. 

And then he stared down at one of the garments he had pulled from the basket. It was too small for Hakoda, but too long for Katara.

“That’s Sokka’s,” Kya confirmed. “It’s a little too big for him, though.”

As if broken from a trance, he folded it as best he could and handed it to her.

“You know what I like about life here at the South Pole?” she asked, when she took it from him. He shook his head.

“I like that everyone here does things for other people because they care about them. Everyone does their part, not because it’s their job, or because somebody told them too, or even because they feel obligated to help. It’s all out of love. You understand that,” she said, like it was obvious.

Zuko pointed at himself and finally spoke. “Me?”

“Maybe you came here because you and Sokka were made Two Fates. But you stayed because you care about him. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that why you’re folding our laundry?” She laughed—a lovely laugh. “Because you care about us, like we care about you?”

A few memories flashed through Zuko’s mind from the last few weeks. Katara, offering him a tie for his hair; Hakoda, teaching him how to cast a net; Kya, sewing a rip in his clothing. They had all welcomed them into their home as if he were one of their own. He was the prince, but they were the ones who were gracious.

But when Zuko’s thoughts turned to Sokka, he thought about the dripping roof, the scorched blankets, and the two of them in his dream, dueling like born enemies.

“I’m still very sorry about what happened,” he murmured. 

“It was an accident. I know that. You know that, don’t you?”

“Even so… I don’t know if I belong here.”

“I think you do,” Kya said. She put a hand over his where they rested on his lap. “And I’m sure that Sokka does, too.”

And then she picked Sokka’s coat back up from the floor and handed it to him. “I’m sorry you haven’t been given one of these, yet. But you should have this one. I think it should fit perfectly fine.”

Zuko took it from her, and then put it against his face. His eyes were wet. “Thank you.”

—

When the last of the laundry was put away, they heard the sound of boots approaching the house, quick and crunching through the snow. Sokka lifted the veil on the door and crouched down next to him, grinning. “Look, Zuko! All better, see?” 

Hakoda followed Sokka into the house, tutting. “Sokka, not so loud, it’s still the middle of the night. Your sister went back to sleep.”

Sokka didn’t seem to hear him. He showed Zuko the backs and fronts of his hands. “See? It’s fine. So you don’t have to cry.”

Zuko shoved him lightly. “I’m not crying!’

Sokka shoved him harder, sang, “Yes you are!”

Katara stormed into the main room, her hair in disarray. “Why are you two YELLING?!” 

The bickering went on, and Kya laughed while Hakoda sighed. The boys would be fine.

—

Spring came with a dry wind. On the day Zuko was meant to leave, he and Sokka waited together at the docks. 

“Oh,” Zuko said, remembering something. He removed the anorak Kya had let him use, almost identical to the one Sokka was wearing at that moment. “I should return this shouldn’t I?”

Sokka looked down at it. “Why? It’s yours, right?”

“... I was borrowing it.”

“Well, maybe you were, but now I’m giving it to you. You _keep_ it.” Sokka shoved the coat back at him. Zuko thought he was just being stubborn, but then Sokka said, “How are you going to remember me until summer if you don’t take it with you?” and crossed his arms across his chest, like Zuko was clueless.

“Oh,” Zuko said, because he had been. “Okay, then, um…”

He thought for a second, and then pulled the red wrap from his hair so it fell to his shoulders. “You can have this. It might be too long, but…”

Sokka had already pulled off his mitten and started winding the wrap around his wrist. “Good! Now we’re square.”

The horn of a ship bellowed as a Fire Navy cruiser appeared on the horizon. At the sound, Sokka hopped off of Zuko’s luggage and threw his arms around him like the day he had first arrived.

“I’ll see you soon,” Zuko said, voice muffled by the fur of Sokka’s coat.

“I’ll see you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! As a heads up, the next part (and likely ever subsequent part) will include a small timeskip. I appreciate your comments very much and, again, thank you for reading so far!
> 
> (i also want to shout out--if you've been writing zukka + reading works from and uplifting other authors who are writing zukka... thank you!! there's so much content popping up right now and i see you and appreciate you and want to make time to enjoy all of your work!! ily)


	3. A Noble from the Earth Kingdom, and a Father’s Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys spend some time in the city, make a new friend, and find a new place.

An excerpt from _The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of the Fire Nation_ :

_It was well known that Fire Lord Sozin had plans to expand his empire past the Fire Nation borders at the time of his death; his calculating leadership style and focus on military expansion during his short reign have left a lasting impression on the culture of his country, where having a soldier in the family is an honor and a privilege, and where troops are prepared for battle even in times of peace._

_Following Sozin’s murder by the Avatar in his final reincarnation, Avatar Roku, the Fire Nation was left susceptible to seizure by the Earth Kingdom. Rather than subject her citizens to a war where a decisive victory was not guaranteed, Fire Lord Rin, wife and successor to Fire Lord Sozin, offered Crown Prince Azulon as one of Two Fates to be matched with the newborn son of the Earth King._

_This covenant prevented a conflict which may have led to the fall of the Fire Nation and began a period of international cooperation. Today, under the leadership of Fire Lord Azulon, the strength and wealth of the Fire Nation has surpassed that which was enjoyed during Sozin’s most prosperous years._

—

Unsurprisingly, Sokka’s adjustment to life in the palace had been relatively easier. Most of the royal family’s guests were politicians, military personnel, nobility, or all three, though each had their own style of formal pretentiousness. Sokka, on the other hand, was weird and chatty—but also earnest and kind. He would pull the grandson of the Fire Lord down the halls by the sleeve, and refuse to let anyone dress him, and be shocked when he asked for something and received it, no matter how many times it happened.

The whole place was livelier with Sokka there, and after a few years the staff had found that they’d taken a liking to him. He knew them by name, and no one, so far, had reprimanded them for addressing him by his, though in the presence of the royal family they called him “young lord”. And just like the palace, they noticed Prince Zuko transitioned every summer into someone just a bit warmer and happier.

But as Zuko grew older, his lessons and training became more demanding, leaving him less time for antics and distractions and Sokka. So it was in their third summer as Two Fates that Sokka looked up at him and said, “We should take the day off!”

Zuko turned the page of the book he was reading without looking up. “Are you telling me this is a day _on_ for you?”

They were lounging in the garden, tucked under the shade of the magnolia tree next to the koi pond. Sokka was on his back, his arms tucked under his head, while Zuko flipped through a thick red tome bound at the top of the page. 

Sokka crossed his ankles. “Oh, ha ha. What I mean is, maybe we shouldn’t go another day where all you do is study, and all I do is watch you.”

Zuko peered at him from the corner of his eye, then took a fallen petal from the ground and set it lightly on Sokka’s forehead. “I have other books, if you don’t just want to watch.”

Sokka scrunched up his face and blew the petal away. “Look, you can make me sit in on your little drawing lessons, and your jerkbending, and your poetry readings—”

“You love poetry.”

“—but,” Sokka said, ignoring Zuko’s interruption, “Fire Nation history is where I draw the line.” 

“It’s not just Fire Nation history. It’s _my_ history. And the next time my grandfather, the _Fire Lord,_ calls me into the throne room, he’s going to expect that I know my history.” He picked up two more petals, put one back on Sokka’s forehead and another on the bridge of his nose, just for emphasis. This time Sokka let them be.

“But you do know it. You make me quiz you all the time.”

Zuko sighed. When he got older, he would definitely have those little lines permanently etched between his brows. “I know, but I feel like I forget it all right after. Honestly, sometimes it’s like my brain doesn’t have any more room for what I’m learning.”

“Really? I thought you had plenty of space left up there—mmph.” Sokka pursed his lips so as not to swallow the final petal that Zuko had laid there. He shook off all three as he finally sat up, snatched the book from his royal highness’ hands, and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Day off begins: Now.”

—

They went to Zuko’s room to prepare. On the other side of the wall was the room Sokka had been given to sleep, but at least when they were younger he had always ended up here for one reason or another. Sometimes it had been too cold in Sokka’s room (“You’re from the South Pole!” “How do you think I know what ‘too cold’ means? Scoot over!”), or sometimes Zuko would have heard a noise on his balcony, and they would fall asleep in the middle of “keeping watch”. Even now, without any excuses, there was a silent agreement that this was a space that they shared.

“I don’t even know how we’re going to leave the grounds. It’s not like we can just walk out the front gate, the guards will see us and make us stay inside. Why are you giving this to me?”

Sokka was handing him a shirt that he usually slept in. “So you can wear it! It’s part of your disguise.”

“Disguise?”

“Yes. In my opinion, the disguise is half the fun.”

Zuko didn’t understand, but he pulled the shirt over his head anyway. It was collarless, and loose around the waist with nothing to cinch it. “You’re just wearing your Water Tribe clothes. That’s not a disguise.”

“Well, nobody in town is really going to notice me. But they will notice the Fire Lord’s ‘precious grandson’,” Sokka said. “As for the guards, we can just sneak past ‘em.” He used two fingers from his right hand to “walk” across his left. “Easy.”

“Now what are you doing?”

Sokka had begun pulling drawers around the room and rummaging through them, until—“Aha!”—he held between his thumbs and forefingers a tiny pair of glasses. They had no earpieces, and their thick lenses were cut from tinted crystal. 

“These are important. We need to hide your eyes.” 

“What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Too big, too sparkly, too conspicuous.”

“Too _sparkly_?” 

“These people have paintings of your family hanging up in their house, you don’t think they’re gonna recognize those things?” He set them atop Zuko’s nose, yanked strands of hair from Zuko’s ponytail so they framed his face, and finally pulled him in front of a mirror.

“I look…”

“Perfect!”

“... ridiculous.”

Sokka said, “Well, that’s a disguise for ya.”

“This just looks like someone kidnapped me in the middle of the night. And then gave me glasses.”

“That’s all you have to say after I put so much effort into it?”

“Sokka—!”

“Hey, would you say you look like quite the _spectacle_ right now, Zuko? Quite the _spectacle?_ Because… because of the—”

“Because of the glasses.”

“Because of the glasses!”

In the end, they kept the disguise. Next was sneaking past the rarely trafficked south gate.

—

They were caught almost instantly.

“Hello, you two,” one of the guards said. His name was Kaio, and he was quite kind. They weren’t sure if that would make it harder or easier for them to trick him into letting them leave. He looked between them with a raised brow. “What are you up to?”

Zuko began an attempt to lie, which was always a mistake. “We, um. We’re just checking on the gate.”

“Just ‘checking on it’?”

“Yes. We wanted to check if it was, um, secure, and to see what it’s… what it’s made of?”

Sokka resisted the temptation to scream. Kaio said, with a slight smile, “That would be metal, Prince Zuko. And I can assure you, you are quite safe inside the palace grounds.”

“Um, Kaio?”

He turned to Sokka. “Yes?”

“We actually wanted to go into town, for just a little bit.” It might have been best for him to stop there, but he went on, “not for any particular reason, but just because, you know, it’s a nice day, and we thought it would be fun, and Zuko’s wearing a disguise so it’ll be fine, not that the disguise is for you, _you_ know what he looks like, obviously, since you saw us, and you know who he is, and who I am, and—”

“Please pretend you didn’t see us,” Zuko said, cutting him off. 

Kaio crossed his arms. “Prince Zuko… Young lord… I don’t think letting you leave on your own would be the best—” 

“Please, Kaio?” Sokka clasped his hands in front of his face. Zuko followed suit. They weren’t small anymore, but they could still be disarming if one wasn’t too careful. “We won’t be gone that long,” they said in unison, as if rehearsed. “We promise.”

The guard looked at Ayu, the guard who stood on the other side of the gate. The boys looked at her, too. She had turned to face the other direction, which was very smart of her to do.

Kaio sighed. “I never saw you,” he said resignedly. “But if someone asks, tell them you left through the north gate.”

— 

Zuko had actually never been out where people didn’t know who he was. He had thought the lack of deference might bother him, but today he appreciated the anonymity. Today, the Capital could show him all of its day-to-day wonders. 

They walked through the fish market near the dock and pointed out ones they had caught themselves at the South Pole; they dodged shots from a group of kids playing a street game of acro ball; they wandered down rows of stalls selling vegetables and honeycomb and sampled slices of cinder plums.

They passed a group of bizarre traveling musicians who danced and plucked strings and beat drums as they moved through the street. One of them handed Sokka a flower with a woody stem and a wide bloom, which he gave to Zuko with a shrug and a smile when the musicians were gone. Zuko slipped it into his pocket, and later Sokka would see it in a small vase in Zuko’s room without remembering where it was from. 

They turned a corner and were met with a fire-eating street performer, who “offered” a flame to Zuko on a long skewer. Much to the performer’s surprise, Zuko took it from him and disappeared the fire behind his lips before tilting his head back and releasing a small inferno from his mouth. Sokka was the loudest in the cheering audience, and the performer shooed them both away.

Eventually they found themselves in a shop whose walls were lined with shelves filled with ceramic teapots and cups, all painstakingly painted and glazed with koi or crocuses or dragons. Zuko lingered by the display, wondering if Uncle Iroh would appreciate a gift from this place. Maybe they would return here together someday.

He reunited with Sokka at a table, sipping from one cup, looking confused, and then sipping from another.

“I hope you didn’t order those without paying.”

They had already had that argument earlier after realizing that they couldn’t buy anything without revealing who they were—“What do you mean you didn’t bring any money? You’re telling me you’re the only prince in the world without any money?!” “I never bring any money! I never _need_ to bring money!”—but Sokka dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “The nice lady at the counter said we could try some. She said one of these is jasmine,” he said as Zuko sat down across from him, “and the other one is oolong. I don’t know why she bothered, since I can’t tell.”

Zuko took the cup Sokka was holding and held it in front of his face. He closed his eyes and inhaled. “This one is jasmine.”

“Wow, you can tell just by smelling it?”

“No. There’s a mark on the bottom,” Zuko deadpanned. He pointed to a character written in graphite on the underside of the cup; Sokka rolled his eyes. 

The rest of their time there was filled with their usual easy conversation, until they only had dregs left of their tea. But when Zuko stood to leave, he found he had backed his chair into another customer who said “Ouch!” in a small, high voice. He turned and saw another kid, maybe eight or nine, in an elegant dress with a white skirt and pale green sleeves that were a little too long.

“Oh, sorry, little girl.”

The young lady appeared to glare at him with eyes that were milky and gray.

“Who are you calling ‘little girl’? You’re just a couple of pipsqueaks.”

Sokka, irritatingly shorter than Zuko and barely pushing four and half feet tall, answered with “I-I’m taller than you! And how would you even know we’re pipsqueaks, you—you’re blind!”

“Sokka, leave it alone,” Zuko said.

But the girl answered, “So what if I am? _You_ bumped into _me_!”

“I _said_ I was sorr—oops.”

Many things happened seemingly all at once. 

Zuko, in the middle of getting worked up, smacked his hand into the face of a server, and the full tray of hot tea and porcelain she had been carrying was thrown up into the air. Zuko and Sokka, realizing someone would be getting scalded if nobody moved, pushed the server backwards and pulled the girl towards them by her silk sleeves. The tea set fell to the ground between the four of them and broke into a million sharp, wet pieces, and the boys were knocked back by a column of stone that rose from the floor between them and the girl in the dress, who ran out of the shop without looking back.

At this point they had attracted the gazes of everyone in the shop. An employee had fallen, wares had been shattered, a pillar of dirt had appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the room, and there were two strangely dressed boys right in the center of the chaos.

— 

“Aw, man,” Sokka said. They were now sprinting down the street. “After that lady gave us free drinks, too.”

Zuko looked back and saw two large men in aprons barreling through the crowds behind them. “Well, I at least wish _she_ was the one chasing us right now.”

And then a familiar voice called out to them from one of the side streets. “Hey, bozos!” it said, and they saw a few yards down the road the end of a jade green shawl being waved, motioning for them to follow it down the alley. The two of them turned at the last moment and slunk into the shadows, and a wall of dirt suddenly rose up from the ground behind them, blocking them from view from the main street. They listened for the heavy footsteps of the men from the teashop to pass. 

“All right,” Sokka said after catching his breath. He pointed a finger at their savior-nemesis. “Who _are_ you?!”

The girl tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m Toph Beifong. From the Earth Kingdom.”

“Well, Toph, do you have some kind of problem with us? Because—” 

“Wait,” Zuko said, pulling Sokka’s hand down. “You’re a Beifong? I didn’t know Lao Beifong had a daughter.”

Toph crossed her arms. “Well, he does. And she just saved you two clowns, so now we’re even.”

Zuko mouthed “Clowns…?” while Sokka said, “So you knew we helped you! Why did you run away? You didn’t even bend the floor back to normal!”

“Well,” Toph said quietly, “you _grabbed_ me, and I didn’t know why until that girl dropped the tea set. Also, I’m not exactly supposed to be out on my own. My parents attendants are probably looking for me everywhere right now.” She scowled. “But I wanted a day to myself! Is that so wrong?”

Zuko and Sokka exchanged a look. “No,” they said, “it isn’t.”  
At that, Toph seemed to warm up a little. “Well, then—who are you two? I didn’t think anyone from the Fire Nation would know about my family. I can tell you’re preparing to lie, which is a sign you’re not great at it—so it would just be easier if you told the truth from the beginning.”

—

By the late afternoon, the boys knew quite a lot about Toph Beifong.

“So if you’re Prince Zuko, what are you doing out here?” she asked at one point. They were walking leisurely back to the palace while avoiding the busier streets; apparently Lao Beifong and some other Ba Sing Se bigwigs had business with Fire Lord Azulon. Zuko tried not to let it bother him, that Toph had known and he hadn’t.

“Same as you. We’re, um, taking the day off.”

“And why are you with him?” She pointed directly at Sokka. They understood her unusual way of knowing and seeing, but he still jumped.

“We’re Two Fates,” Zuko said.

“Oh. So you’re betrothed or something?”

There was a very long pause.

“Pffft—”

“No! That’s not it at all—”

“ _Betrothed?_ I’m _twelve_ —” 

“I-It’s a shared responsibility—”

“It’s a tradition—”

“Okay!” Toph said, laughing. They weren’t lying, but there was definitely something that stuck out about their answers that she decided to keep to herself. “You don’t need to explain it to me. I just think it’s nice.”

“What is?” Sokka asked.

She smiled. “To know that you’ll never be alone.”

Zuko and Sokka just stared at her, but then Toph’s thoughtful expression suddenly changed.

“What’s wrong?” Sokka asked.

“I think someone’s coming. I—” 

“You two! Get away from Miss Beifong!”

And for the second time that day the boys found themselves in a one-sided scrap with an earthbender. They had lifted themselves up out of the ground, almost from directly under their feet, and before either of them could react, Sokka’s and Zuko’s wrists were squeezed behind cuffs of rock and their backs were pressed against another stone wall. Toph herself had been pulled aside; her attendants’ voices were doting, but their hands on her shoulders were tight and restricting. 

“Miss Beifong, are you all right?” one of them asked, “Who are these men?”

“They’re not men,” Toph said, shaking them off, “they’re kids—”

“They’re kidnappers,” another said.

“They’re my friends,” she insisted, but no one was listening. Her attendants crept closer and closer towards Sokka and Zuko, the tips of their halberds inching towards their throats. 

The boys shared a final glance. _Well,_ they thought. _We’re really in it now._

—

The misunderstanding was cleared up quickly, though not quickly enough. When they had been escorted back to the palace, Toph was taken away, but she looked teary eyed when she looked back at them and said, “I’m really sorry.” In that moment, vulnerable as they all were to their awaiting and undeserved punishments, they felt a kinship with her.

Ursa had come to meet the two of them at the front gate, to tell them to wait in their rooms and nothing else. She had not been smiling.

— 

Ursa, Azula, and Sokka were seated behind Zuko, who had to face his father alone in the throne room.

“You should be so lucky the Fire Lord himself has not deigned to deal out your judgment.”

“Yes, Father,” Zuko said.

“You leave the palace unsupervised, neglecting your studies and sorely needed training, and are caught in an altercation with an Earth Kingdom noble, threatening the entire nation with your senseless, childish behavior. I am ashamed to have such a worthless son sullying the name of the royal family. You _disgrace_ me.”

“Yes, Father.”

“The guards who allowed your departure have been removed from the palace grounds. You should feel lucky the same is not done to you.”

“... Yes, Father.”

Sokka’s fists were clenched so tight on his thighs he worried his nails would draw blood from his palm. He was almost dizzy from rage and guilt and shock that a father could ever say these things to his son. Kaio and Ayu had been fired, or exiled, or worse, and it was his fault. Zuko had to sit here and take _this_ , and it was his fault.

“Prince O—” he began to say, because he _had_ to, he had to pull Zuko out of the fire and tell Ozai the truth, that it was all his idea. His throat was burning. But Ursa put a hand firmly on his wrist as he began to speak and he stopped. When he looked at her, she did not turn her head.

“Stay quiet, idiot,” Azula said next to him, in a whisper so thin he could hardly hear. It was strange. Azula never seemed unsure or afraid of anything, but right then Sokka could see her straining to keep deathly still, to be invisible yet appear perfectly ready to be called upon. “Do not get involved.”

Sokka could feel the sweat trickling down his temples as Ozai looked directly at him—though he might have just imagined it, because after a moment Sokka could no longer feel his gaze.

Zuko was on his hands and knees. He was not trembling, but Sokka could tell that that was intentional. It must be painful, he thought, to keep your body from betraying your fear. 

“Father… I am so sorry to have dishonored you. I promise it will never happen again.”

—

Very soon after they were in Zuko’s bedroom; Sokka was pacing from wall to wall, livid, while Zuko sat silently on his bed.

“I can’t believe he said those _things_ to you—”

“Sokka.”

“—He acted like you burned down the city! He’s your father for the love of—”

“Sokka…”

“—I mean, what the actual—”

“Sokka!”

“What?!”

“I heard you try to speak up.”

“Well, yeah! It was my idea, if he was gonna get that mad at anyone it should’ve been me, and honestly he shouldn’t have gotten that mad, anyway, and—”

“Sokka, never do that again.”

Sokka blinked at him. “What? Why? I was trying to help you!”

“You were not helping me. You couldn’t have helped me! You just would’ve made it worse!” Up until now Zuko had been staring down into his lap, and his words had been curt and monotone. But he had finally raised his head, and he looked absolutely furious.

Sokka opened and closed his mouth. “Are you… _mad_ at me?” he asked, in complete disbelief. 

“Yes, I’m mad at you!” Zuko stood up from his bed and stepped towards him so quickly that Sokka took a few steps back. “It doesn’t matter that it was your idea, I still listened to you and _did_ it, stupid, _stupid_ me…” He put his hands in his hair and pulled like he was about to tear it out. “And then you tried to interrupt my father, in the throne room, when it’s not your place, it’s _never_ your place, you don’t _understand_ —you’ve never understood how anything works!” 

Sokka found his footing and his voice. “Oh, because I’m not a prince?” All the indignation Sokka had bottled up during their audience with Ozai was starting to spill out his mouth, now directed at Zuko. “Because I’m just a peasant who doesn’t know how to behave?”

Zuko’s eyes softened ever so slightly, but his brow was still furrowed and his voice was still cold when he said, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“No, I don’t,” Sokka said.

Zuko didn’t answer, but turned around to face his bed, arms crossed. He didn’t see the look on Sokka’s face when he left the room, slamming the door behind him. 

—

They managed to avoid each other for the next few days. Zuko kept himself as busy as possible to avoid thinking about Sokka, but even his most detached instructors asked about That Water Tribe Boy.

He was on his way to the training grounds at one point after their fight when his mother ran into him in the middle of the open-air walkway to the east wing. “Are you looking for Sokka? I think I saw him—” 

But Zuko answered curtly without stopping. “I’m not looking for him.”

He knew he hadn’t struck the correct tone, but she allowed him a few more steps before she called out to him again. “Zuko. Please don’t walk away while I’m talking to you.”

He sighed, loudly, before turning back to her. “Sorry, Mom.” He stared down to the tips of his shoes and then felt a soft hand cup around his face. 

“Is this about what happened with your father the other day?” Ursa asked, smoothing a thumb across his cheekbone. 

“No,” he said, but again, he wasn’t much of a liar.

“Zuko, I know it might not make sense, but Sokka can’t help feeling protective over you. That’s the nature of your relationship.”

He moved away from her touch and pulled her hand down by the wrist. “But I don’t _need_ to be protected. I know what’s expected of me, I know that my actions have consequences, and I’m strong enough for all of it. I’m a prince of the Fire Nation, and I know what it takes!” There was a bitter taste in his mouth. “Why doesn’t he get that? Why doesn’t he get that if he tries to help me it makes me look weak?”

Ursa’s expression was inscrutable. “He knows that you’re strong, Zuko. But knowing that someone you love is strong doesn’t make it easier to watch them suffer.”

Suffering. Was that suffering? If discipline was deserved, if it was how things were done, could he call it suffering?

Zuko lost that train of thought when Ursa bent down and pulled him into a hug, tight like she was afraid to let go. “Talk to your friend, Zuko. You need each other, don’t you?”

—

“Water Tribe boy.”

“It’s _Sokka_ ,” he said, for the millionth time since he had known Azula.

She had found him on his back in the garden once again, this time alone under the magnolia tree, shielding himself from the sun streaming through the branches with an arm over his eyes. 

She kicked him lightly in the leg. “Are you still sulking about what you did in the throne room? You’re lucky my mother stopped you.”

Sokka tutted and rolled onto his side, facing away from her. Yes, he was still sulking. “Yeah, yeah, I know. The common oaf has no idea how to act in a palace. I got it.”

She kicked him again, harder, and he sat up and rubbed his leg where he feared a bruise was forming.

“This has nothing to do with you being a common oaf, although you are one. It does, however, have everything to do with this family.”

He looked up at her, using his hand to shade his eyes. From where he was sitting, her head was directly in front of the sun; her face was cast in shadow, and the daylight burst from her hair like a crown. “Huh?”

“Listen, _Sokka._ As much as you might think you’re one of us, you’re not. For a few months out of the year, you may sleep where Zuko sleeps, and eat what Zuko eats, and go where Zuko goes, but you will always be worlds apart. Like I said before—do not get involved, or you will be eaten alive.”

Sokka blinked. “... You don’t mean that literally, right?”

Azula rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she said, “this was your first warning. Hopefully you won’t need a second.”

And when she turned on her heels and walked away the light that flooded his vision turned everything white. When he could see again, she was gone. 

He laid back down and rolled back onto his side, and then again onto his back. He closed his eyes, and felt for fallen magnolia petals tucked between the blades of grass. He took one, and put it on his forehead.

Maybe Azula was right. Maybe he had been caught in the middle of something he didn’t understand.

_You disgrace me._

Ugh. Sokka put a hand over his heart, and tried to remember what he did understand: That he cared about Zuko, and at that moment, he missed him, too. 

—

The next day, Zuko opened the door to his room and found Sokka in front of him, his hand raised to knock.

“Oh. Hello. I was just—”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Sokka said, all in a rush.

“—looking for you,” Zuko finished.

“... You were?”

Zuko jiggled the door handle. It was the nerves. “Um… yes. I wanted to show you something.”

—

At the base of the mountain behind the palace, past the sharp thickets and unkempt shrubs, and settled within the thick layer of decaying leaves on the forest floor was a little wooden archway, on its own like a door to another world. It wasn’t, of course, but it did mark the beginning of a trail that was very well hidden. Zuko suspected it had just been forgotten.

They barely spoke as they walked. Zuko did not ask what Sokka wanted to talk about before they had left, and Sokka didn’t mention it. 

They were quiet still when they reached the end of the path, where the remnants of stone paving stopped and a clearing was revealed through the foliage. The cliff wasn’t too high, but it offered an unobstructed view of the sun being dipping into the sea. For once, their timing had been perfect. 

Sokka stepped closer to the ledge and looked down, at the waves crashing over the rocks below. And then he knelt down and sat on the edge of the cliff. A few moments later, Zuko joined him, just a few handwidths apart. 

“What is it?” Zuko asked eventually. The heat of the setting sun was warm on his face. The loose ends of that red ribbon forever tied on Sokka’s wrist were being tugged and tossed by the breeze. The wind was so strong up here; Zuko felt like it could carry him away.

Sokka shrugged. “Nothing. I just really like being here.”

“Oh,” Zuko said, hugging his knees. “That’s good. This is a good spot.”

And when Sokka grinned at him it felt like the first time in years. “I meant ‘here’ as in the Fire Nation. At the palace, with you. But yeah… I like it up here, too.”

“... Oh,” Zuko said again. His face was even warmer, now.

Sokka kicked his legs back and forth over the water, stories down. “Um, what I wanted to say earlier was that I’m sorry I made you go out the other day.”

“It wasn’t—”

“I know, but I’m still sorry. No matter what happened after, it started because I asked, and I have to own up to that. I’m also sorry I almost got us in even more trouble with your dad. But all those things he said… they just weren’t true, you know? I don’t think they’re true. At all.” 

Zuko could see Sokka’s fingers digging into the dirt. His knuckles had turned white. And while the image of it did flash through his thoughts, he did not reach out and put his own hand over Sokka’s. Instead he said, “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you for trying to look out for me. I just… need to be able to take things on my own.”

“Why?”

Zuko peered up and saw Sokka staring at him. “Why do you have to deal with things by yourself?” 

And for a moment, Zuko thought they were going to start arguing again, but then Sokka fell onto his back, arms spread, and sighed. “Well, you don’t, okay? Just lean on me once in a while.”

—

Soon dusk came, and they realized they had made the mistake of staying out too long when they had to follow the trail back in the dark. Zuko traversed the path by clutching the fabric of Sokka’s shirt all the way down; he’d always had the better eyes at night. 

They would arrive back at the palace covered in mud and scratches from the bramble, but as they went, under the chorus of ram toads and rhino crickets, Sokka said, “Zuko?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t bring anyone else up there, okay? That’s our spot.”

—

—

  
  


A week had passed since the representatives from the Earth Kingdom had departed from the palace when Ozai called for a meeting with his brother, alone. He told a few members of the staff to arrange it, a group who understood what would be done if they talked.

“I was sorry to hear that King Shuhei had passed. Thank you,” said the Crown Prince to the man who poured his tea. His brother’s cup, too, was filled, but Ozai said nothing, leaving it steaming and untouched. “But I am happy that our grieving neighbors were shown some hospitality here before the coronation of his heir.” The general took a sip of his drink. “Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask—how is my nephew?” 

Ozai wasn’t there to chat; compared to his brother, his voice boomed across the table. “Iroh. Our father is no longer bound by Two Fates. We no longer have an obligation to respect their sovereignty.”

“If you truly believed that, you would have invited our father to this discussion,” Iroh answered evenly.

Ozai snapped at him. “I did not invite our father because his judgment is currently clouded by sentiment. But I will go to him when those feelings pass. In the meantime, I must know that you share my opinion of what we have to do.”

“And what is that, brother?”

The second son of the Fire Lord looked down at his cup and held it between his fingers. Soon the liquid started to boil in his hands.

“The Earth King is dead. The Avatar is dead. Now, there is no reason for us not to finish what our grandfather began.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. This felt like a long and messy one. Tiny Toph’s here!  
> Thank you for your patience with updates, I’m trying to make the max amt of time between them like a week, but I don’t want to give a specific day since I Am Terrible at Deadlines  
> I hope there’s a good mix of like, underlying plot/blossoming affection/lore here... as i’m planning this all out it looks like it’s going to be a slow burn, fellas T-T  
> Thank you so much for reading!! Also your comments really do mean a lot, like a LOT A LOT, like “encouragement and motivation” a lot, so I appreciate the time you take to tell me your thoughts!


End file.
